


Proud OtaBabe

by MadamRed



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Embarrassment, Fan Clubs, Friendship, M/M, OtaBabes, Post-Canon, Social Media, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, yuri's angels - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed
Summary: Yuri just wants to know what the big deal behind the name of Otabek's fan club is, okay?





	Proud OtaBabe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there~! Requested by the ever wonderful captain _and_ vice-president of the OtaBabes fan club, [severeminx](http://severeminx.tumblr.com/)! Also, big thank you to her for our beautiful name. Here's [the Tumblr post](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/161097213276/d2diamond-madamredwrites-severeminx) that brought this all to life!
> 
> Another big thank you to the president, [Diamond](https://d2diamond.tumblr.com/), for her suggestion, which became the final scene of this story! 
> 
> This, as you can see, got completely out of hand. As if I could write only five sentences about this? Pfff. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! ^_^

**'Your fan club is called what now?' Yuri snorted so loudly he nearly spilled his frappé and Otabek looked peeved.**

 

‘This is why I didn’t want to tell you,’ Otabek said, taking a sip of his latté as regret instantly took over his features.

‘It at least sounds cooler than my Angels,’ Yuri replied with a shrug, a more sober expression settling on his face as he gazed at his friend sitting across from him. He really didn’t want to ruin what had been five months of a very fast-paced friendship, or at least that was what everyone around him said. To him, the progression felt natural, just like that night in Barcelona when he asked Otabek to help him with his new gala exhibit.

Otabek only hummed in response, realising that Yuri apparently didn’t understand what the name actually meant. He wanted to sigh in relief, honestly, but he didn’t want to bring more attention to his fan club than necessary.

He knew the OtaBabes meant well. They were kind to him and each other, respectful of his space, organised events where they would get together, set up streams of his performances for those who couldn’t watch it live and whatnot. They were incredible, really, and always sent him _OtaBears_ , as they called his unofficial mascot of sorts, with his new outfits for the season once he announced them.

His entire family had custom-made t-shirts with a variety of phrases going from: _Proud OtaBabe_ (his younger sister), _Team Altin_ (mum, dad and grandma) and finally _Golden Boy_ (his older brother). He had a _Team Altin_ one, too, but he only ever wore it to sleep or just to hang around his house. He only wore it publicly _once_ to a sort of meet-and-greet organised by his coach after World’s the previous year, took pictures with his fans while wearing it, chatted and exchanged stories for an hour, and that was it.

It was not that he was embarrassed by them or the t-shirt. It was just that he felt conceited just thinking about himself wearing a piece of clothing... in honour of himself? If that made sense to anyone. He remembered JJ making fun of him for thinking that way while he still trained in Canada, saying that he should learn to embrace his fans’ love for him a little more.

That conversation had led to what later on became the bane of his existence, and a secret he’d rather take to the grave than have the world (especially, Yuri) know that he had been the one to write the words to that damn JJ theme song. He had had to beg JJ to take the credit, making him appear _incredibly_ vain in front of the press, but the guy took in stride. It wasn’t _that_ far off from his usual personality at the end of the day.

He sighed in spite of himself, he wanted to hide away in Lilia’s second (third? Where was Yakov sleeping again? He didn’t need to know, nope) guest room and not come out until dinner time when he and Yuri would enjoy a quiet evening at home since his two guardians were supposed to go to a sponsor event of sorts to talk about Yuri’s deals for the upcoming season and wouldn’t be back until the next morning.

That thought made him look away from the window and back towards his friend. Yuri had his eyes fixed somewhere outside but his mind seemed to be far away from that small café in the centre of St Petersburg. He was visiting Yuri, with the excuse to train under Yakov for a few weeks and get his advice on what he needed to improve, and they had got permission from both their coaches to have a relaxing day since it was Saturday after all.

They jumped at the opportunity to spend a day away from the ice, gym and ballet studio and decided to walk around the city centre like normal teenagers for a change. Even if that meant Yuri getting recognised every once in a while and having to run and hide inside this specific café once the network of Angels heard that the Hero and the Fairy were out and about.

‘Hey,’ Otabek mumbled suddenly, startling Yuri out of his thoughts, and he felt the need to apologise to him. ‘Sorry. Want to get out of here? You wanted to buy some new shoes, right?’

‘Yeah, and some new leggings. I swear it’s all Mila’s fault. I was fine and then she made a joke about me growing again and, boom, all of a sudden, I grew a good three centimetres and none of my shoes seem to fit anymore.’

‘At least Yakov has already ordered some new skates,’ he reminded Yuri, who now was able to look at him almost right in the eye without having to move his head too much.

‘Yeah. Those are going to be a _bitch_ to break in, though,’ Yuri said with a groan and Otabek patted his back, prompting him to move forwards. He knew the pain that came with adolescence paired with a professional sport like theirs. ‘I’m still blaming the hag, just so you know,’ Yuri added as they checked the streets for any remaining Angels.

Otabek couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his chest as they turned the corner, the Kazakh leading the way as if he were the local one here. He totally missed Yuri’s blush at hearing him laugh like that in person for the first time.

 

* * *

‘What should we buy for dinner?’ Otabek asked as they made their way back to Lilia’s place.

They hadn’t run into any other fans along the way and Yuri’s mood had improved significantly after buying two new pairs of shoes -one pair of black with leopard print sneakers, of course, and the other was a pair of training shoes, a simple red and black design on the side-, four pairs of leggings _plus_ one pair of skinny black jeans because Yuri “needed” them.

It was bullshit and they both knew it, but Otabek wasn’t about to call him out on that. Yuri worked hard for that money so, he deserved to buy a few nice things every once in a while.

‘Oh, you wanted to cook? I thought we could order something, you know, since it’s our free day with no adult supervision and all,’ Yuri’s mischievous smile was contagious and Otabek found himself nodding along before he could think of an answer about how they shouldn’t but, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything when Yuri was smiling at him like that.

‘Then, how about some snacks for the movies?’

‘You read my mind, Altin.’

They dropped Yuri’s purchases at Lilia’s and went to the supermarket to stock up on unhealthy treats.

 

* * *

A movie and a half later, they were both full of pizza and enough sugar in their bloodstreams to last them for the entire night.

‘I think that last chocolate bar was unnecessary,’ Yuri complained as he grabbed onto his bloated stomach, trying to massage the uncomfortableness away.

‘The last one? Yuri, we went through an entire box,’ Otabek deadpanned, his eyes still glued to the scene on the TV.

They were on the living room, a cemetery of wrappers and the empty pizza box still on the coffee table in front of them along with their glasses, and their sides were pressed against each other even though they had the whole couch all to themselves.

‘Pause it, I need to go to the bathroom,’ Otabek said, getting up and not really waiting for an answer.

‘Use mine. Lilia will kill me if she sees we’ve moved any of her stuff,’ Yuri half yelled over the sound of explosions before he found the remote and silence reigned over the apartment once more.

Yuri busied himself by cleaning the mess they had created on the coffee table a bit but then grew bored of the mundane task and laid down on the couch again, phone in hand.

He was going to do his usual routine of Twitter, Instagram, emails and messages, when a certain suggested profile on Instagram caught his attention. The _otababes-unite_ account was there at the top, Otabek’s smiling face with Almaty’s mountains in the background as he shook an important person’s hand as the profile picture screaming at him to tap on the name.

Biting his bottom lip and raising his eyes to check if his friend had returned, his fingers acted by themselves despite the protests his brain was trying to come up with.

What was the harm, really? Otabek had met his Angels _plenty_ of times, had had to come face to face with them in way more occasions Yuri would like to admit, even if he and Otabek had only seen each other a grand total of three times overall -four, if they counted that one summer camp when they were kids.

Hell, it was just an Instagram profile of his friend’s fan club. _Seriously._ It was not like he was stalking Otabek’s family or anything.

So he tapped on the name and waited a few seconds for the pictures to load. He read the description at the top, a smile taking permanent residence on his face, and opened the link to their Tumblr and website on new tabs to check out later.

The pictures were pretty similar to the ones on his own fan club’s page. Press announcements, promotional pictures they shared from the Kazakh’s public account (after hearing from Leo that Otabek had a private one, he _demanded_ to be included among the few that followed him, which, surprisingly, didn’t take too much coaxing or yelling or threatening on his part), sponsor pictures Otabek did at the end of the previous season after winning bronze at World’s for the second year in a row, and so on.

There were also the usual “fan sighting” type of photos. Random men and women who spotted Otabek in the street and politely asked him for a picture -nothing like his Angels who literally chased him down the street almost every opportunity they got; he liked them and thanked them for their support but they needed to _chill._

He was astounded a few days ago when a man and his daughter stopped them on their way to practice for a photo and apologised at least three times throughout the whole exchange for keeping them from their responsibilities. Yuri had never heard that from a fan before, only from Katsudon’s back in Hasetsu, but he had figured that it was more of a Japanese thing rather than a fan thing.

When Otabek told him that it was actually a pretty common occurrence for him, Yuri was speechless. He had a _very_ good impression of the OtaBabes so far. The only thing worth cringing over was the name, but who was he to judge them, really? To each their own and all that.

After going through what appeared to be a very small percentage of the profile’s pictures, Yuri’s interest switched to their website.

There were the same announcements from Instagram and a few tweets from Otabek’s Twitter account at the top of the “news” tab, pictures from the meet-and-greet in March, some of himself along with Otabek when Yuri went to pick him up at the airport with Yakov. Overall, a normal fan website.

He laughed a little at the description of the “Headquarters” by their vice-president taken from Tumblr; these people were very imaginative. If there were such a thing, Otabek would probably combust from sheer embarrassment alone. Yuri would probably pay the place a visit, though; it sounded like a fun place to hang out. Or at least as fun as fictional spaces sounded.

His eyes drifted to the “Merchandise” tab and, Yuri being Yuri, he tapped on it and was surprised to find so many items available. Anything that he could’ve thought of was there: hats, t-shirts, plushies, posters, pyjamas, pencil, phone and pillow cases, even _sheets!_ He found himself looking at the t-shirts mainly since the only other item that caught his attention was the “OtaBear” and he already had one, courtesy of Otabek himself. Yuri would never admit it but he sometimes slept with it. He couldn’t help himself. The bear looked freaking adorable in Otabek’s “prince” outfit, as his fans had labelled it.

But the t-shirts... they looked _so_ good! There were a variety of designs to choose from, with different phrases at the front or with a miniature version of the OtaBear along with the name of the fan club on the left. And you could even ask for a personalised t-shirt with your name or last name on the back.

Oh, the temptation was real and practically palpable. Would Otabek hate him if he ordered one?

He was still debating whether to buy one or not when Otabek walked into the room and he quickly locked his screen, unpaused the movie and hoped his ears were not as red as they felt.

 

* * *

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Otabek was already about to go back to Almaty that he actually ordered the damn shirt. He refrained from adding his last name, since he didn’t want anyone to know that it was him ordering, and even made sure to send the package to the rink rather than to Lilia’s.

However, it was weeks and weeks after he got his _Team Altin_ shirt -and hid it in his closet, after taking at least ten selfies with it, so that Yakov wouldn’t yell at him about supporting one of his rivals-, that he actually heard about the meaning behind the name of the club.

They were talking on Skype, just hanging out despite the distance, when Otabek groaned. He had told Yuri to wait a few minutes while he spoke with his coach and read the email she had sent him earlier.

‘What happened? Is everything okay?’ Yuri asked, concerned. After all, it wasn’t every day that Otabek showed that much emotion because of a simple phone call.

‘My coach, she... wants me to do another meet-and-greet with my fans here in Almaty. But apparently the government heard about the two we’ve had so far and wants to make it, like, an actual, _official_ event,’ Otabek plopped down on his chair, his body facing Yuri but his eyes were trained on the ceiling above him. ‘I never asked for this,’ he mumbled, bringing a hand up to rub at his face.

‘That’s great, Otabek!’ Yuri said, not fully understanding why his friend always felt awkward around his fans. So far, they had been nothing but respectful and nice. ‘What is the deal with you and your fans, anyway? You never told me.’

‘It’s... stupid. You’ll probably laugh at me,’ Otabek seemed so small sitting there on his computer chair, his face only illuminated by the faint light of the screen and the lamp on the bedside table a few steps behind him.

‘Come on! Aren’t we friends? I’m not going to think it’s stupid,’ he very clearly avoided making any promises about not laughing but Otabek didn’t seem to notice, too worried about what he was about to confess.

‘Fine. It’s the name, okay?’

‘The name?’ Yuri asked for clarification after his friend remained silent for a minute, not offering any form of explanation. Otabek sighed before conceding.

‘You know how my last name means “gold” in Turkish, right?’ Yuri nodded, knowing full well that Otabek was buying for time but deciding to let him gather his thoughts and courage to tell him whatever it was that made him feel so embarrassed. ‘Well, for my name, the usual nicknames are “Beka”, “Beks” or “Bek”, right? You don’t usually use the first letters of my name!’

Otabek seemed incredibly frustrated as he got up and started pacing his room, coming in and out of the frame every few seconds, but Yuri still did not get what the big deal was.

‘So? What’s the problem with them using those first three letters?’

‘Because “ota” means “dad” in Uzbek!’ Otabek almost yelled, his hands in the air. Once he realised he had raised his voice, he sat down again and looked at Yuri’s frozen image on the screen. ‘I’m sorry for the outburst, I always get super uncomfortable talking about that. Yuri, you still there?’

And Yuri, finally connecting the dots and “translating” the name from “OtaBabes” to “Daddy’s Girls” or something like that, started laughing uncontrollably.

‘Oh, oh, _oh,_ this is fucking fantastic,’ he managed to choke out in between gasps and bouts of high-pitched laughter he didn’t care to cover up right now. ‘This is _gold,_ oh my, God. Wait! Pun _not_ intended!’ he kept going, cackling now at his own stupid joke and falling out of his chair as Otabek glared at him from his room all the way in Almaty.

‘I knew I shouldn’t have told you. You promised not to laugh, Yuri!’ but the laughter never ceased. ‘We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down.’

Yuri almost didn’t hear him, but the sound of Otabek hanging up made him stop, although he was still chuckling as he tried to call his friend back. He only composed himself when the third call went unanswered.

He grabbed his phone then and tried to apologise to Otabek over and over again, even tagged him on a picture of their time together in St Petersburg with the excuse of it being a _#ThrowbackThursday._

He was eventually forgiven, after a few more apologies and promises that he would _never_ mention the name of Otabek’s fan club again.

They very quickly went back to their routine of everyday messages and Snapchats, and the OtaBabes only came back to their conversations thanks to the dreaded event Otabek had to go to.

That gave Yuri a little window to take advantage of, and he slowly started dropping the name here and there, usually about a picture he saw, or someone stopping him in the street for an autograph and saying that they got to know him through his friendship with Otabek.

Even if the scowling and groans were not completely gone, by the time they met again for the GPF later that year, Otabek had grown used to the new topic of conversation, and Yuri never alluded to the true meaning of the name ever again.

That was, of course, until they went for their celebratory coffee just like they did after World’s last March.

They had just ordered and were sitting down in a somewhat secluded booth at the back, when Yuri felt incredibly hot inside the café. He took off his black hoodie and put it on top of the jacket, gloves and hat he had been wearing outside, and took a sip of his macchiato, not paying any attention to his friend’s reaction until he heard Otabek’s surprised gasp.

‘Yura, what... are you wearing?’ Otabek asked, even though it was as clear as day. The words _Proud OtaBabe_ emblazoned in yellow across Yuri’s now much more toned chest on top of the dark blue t-shirt made Otabek’s eyes hurt as if he were staring at a set of neon lights in a dark club.

‘Hm?’ was Yuri’s reply, as he looked down at his shirt, obvious fake surprise taking over his face as if he hadn’t been aware of what he was going to do when he got dressed that morning. ‘This? I didn’t have any other clean shirts,’ he shrugged, and looked out of the window to his left and away from Otabek. He had to take another sip of coffee to conceal the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 _‘Yu~ra,’_ Otabek whined, his head falling on top of the table with a loud thud that startled a few of the other patrons in the shop.

 _‘Be~ka,’_ Yuri copied his childish tone and looked down at him at the same time that Otabek propped his chin against the table, not moving from his slouching position. ‘It’s just a silly name. Your fans are great and they love you, so get over it and stop complaining.’

The fact that this was Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian _Punk,_ telling him to basically grow up and stop being immature was so bizarre that Otabek couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the scene, Yuri joining him almost immediately. Soon enough, they were both wiping a few tears which had escaped from their eyes.

‘Okay, okay, I’ll stop complaining, but only if you promise not to wear that in public again,’ he pleaded, to which Yuri glared at him. ‘At least... until I, um, get used to it?’

‘Fine,’ Yuri extended his hand and they shook on it. Yuri was happy to oblige; it meant progress, after all.

Half an hour later, they were about to get up and leave the café when an idea struck Yuri. Looking for, and quickly finding, the _one_ thing inside his bag that Yakov made him carry around, he dropped it in the middle of the table, making Otabek look up as he finished putting on his gloves.

‘What’s that for?’ Otabek asked, eyeing the black Sharpie suspiciously.

‘Sign my t-shirt, Altin,’ Yuri said, a devilish grin on his face.

It took some persuading, but really, who was Otabek to deny his fans when they were (almost) always so polite and supportive?

 

* * *

**♥** **phichit+chu** , **yuuri-katsuki** , **v-nikiforov** and **6,598 others**

 **yuri-plisetsky** Finally got _@otabek-altin_ to sign my t-shirt! ;) _#ProudOtaBabe #ProudFriend #CongratsOnSilver_

View all 734 comments  
3 HOURS AGO

 **otabek-altin** Next time I’m in St Petersburg, I’m making you sign a Golden Boy one _#CongratsOnGold #ProudFriend #YurisAngel_

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me about YoI/Otayuri over on tumblr: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/) ❤️️


End file.
